The part that had made little to no sense to him.
He observed what was taking place. Once ignited, his Heart burned the mana reserves that had saturated it before catching fire. But the gel made it easy, almost reflexive, to draw more mana into his Heart even as he burned it. A virtuous cycle that would allow him to remain ignited for as long as there was mana in the environment, and something he’d never had the fine control and ability to do before.
Experimentally, Scorio drew on more of the Coal, increasing the rate of burning, and the flames grew correspondingly, the power washing out through his body and invigorating him. But that wasn’t what he wanted; he could float here all day, burn through all the mana, and never expand his Heart to its fullest extent.
Frowning, he slackened the amount being drawn into his Heart, and the flames dampened.
Mana fall around toad, grow compressed as more mana enter. Stabilized by matrix.
What did it mean, for the mana to fall around him? It was already present in the gel. It couldn’t fall around his Heart; the best Scorio could do was whip it about him with his will at ever greater speeds, but what would that accomplish?
As technique used, more mana pulled in by act of missing.
Missing. Falling. Nox had been using the words in ways that didn’t make sense given Scorio’s Heart. The only way Scorio could pull in mana was to direct it into his Heart, as when he saturated it before igniting. The goal was to force ever more mana into himself, straining to maximize his saturation point till he could barely ignite. But once he’d ignited, he could no longer saturate, only increase the rate of burning.
Or was that true?
The gel gave him such fine-tuned control over the mana, made it so pliable and willing, that he decided to experiment. The process of burning initiated the reflexive draw that pulled more mana into his Heart, but perhaps… Scorio frowned, focused completely on the inside of his Heart, became his Heart, identified himself with it, felt the pull as a visceral experience. There. Just as it entered his Heart, he could split it. Send the requisite sliver to keep the burning going, and then pool the rest around the flame, refilling his reservoir.
For a long, aching moment, Scorio just watched as the Coal mana both fueled his burning Heart and began to saturate it at the same time. It was a terrible balancing act, one that he’d never have been able to pull off without the gel.
But then something else happened—the more he pulled into his Heart to saturate, the more the burning pull grew, so that he found it easy to continue saturating. Back in the Academy, under Hera’s guidance, the process became ever harder the more he saturated, like trying to inhale ever more air. But here, with the gel’s guidance, he was able to endlessly draw in mana, using the draw of the burn to power the saturation.
Better yet, the gel was minimizing how much he vented and collecting that which did escape to funnel it back into himself.
Mana was growing incredibly dense within his Heart. The layer of Coal was nearly all gone. His Heart burned on, the flames subtle and constant, and always his reservoir filled, growing ever denser, ever larger.
Watching, bemused, exhilarated, Scorio saw the last of the Coal disappear into his Heart, and then the first of the Sapphire mana flowed into him.
It felt like lighting a thousand lanterns inside a dark cathedral all at once, like diving headfirst into an icy lake, like being jolted back to life from the dead by a stroke of lighting.
Too much. Scorio opened his mouth to scream, but the gel was there, fusing with his flesh, numbing the pain, easing the burn. Healing it over. More Sapphire poured into him, and despite trying to keep the sliver that he directed toward the flames to a minimum, the fire that coruscated around his Heart blossomed into a bonfire of gelid azure.
It was too much, too intense. Scorio strained to control the power, watched as the Sapphire split away to saturate his Heart as well, so much more potent and denser than the Coal. It compressed into something akin to diamond, and still more poured in, forcing his reservoir to widen, deepen, stretching it beyond its limits.
Scorio moaned, the sound muffled, lost to the crackling of the flames, and still, the Sapphire came. And then he saw more Coal filtering into the top of the pool of imperial gel; as he emptied the pool, the draw of his burning Heart, the process he’d begun, facilitated and augmented by the gel, caused the ambient mana in the burrow above to sink in and replenish the mana.
Too much. The Sapphire was almost all absorbed, the terrible damage it should have done to his Heart softened by the gel. His Heart was venting a blue light so blinding he could barely look at it, the flames roaring higher and higher, and still, the mana in his reservoir grew, expanding and growing denser by the moment.
Scorio wanted to scream, to clutch at his head. He felt as if his very soul were splitting, the flesh suit of his body about to be torn asunder by terrible pressures from within. The fabric of his being was fraying, and still more Coal poured into the pool, surrounding him now with its comforting black power.
His reservoir felt vast, endless. If he’d not already been burning his Heart, he’d never have been able to ignite. It would have been like holding a match to the trunk of a centuries-old tree.
More mana poured into him. How could he stop it? Scorio tried to snuff out the flame, but it burned on despite his will, lit now by an environment so mana-rich that it seemed to burn the very air itself.
Scorio screamed. His vision was doubling, and now he felt his real heart stuttering, losing its beat. He was burning up, his Heart growing as it swelled before him, eclipsing everything else, the flames reaching up to the heavens themselves, his reservoir an endless lake of depthless night with an azure core.
His body was thrashing, flailing at the gel, disrupting the orderly layers that the new Coal mana was trying to form. He was drinking it in, could no longer tell which way was up, which down. Scorio fought to eclipse his Heart, but he couldn’t stop the process of engorgement; more and more mana poured into him as if drawn by a void, sucked in by an endless hunger. It was too much. His mind was fracturing. His very sense of self tearing apart—
—then it all fell away.
The imperial gel, the Coal mana, his Heart, the vast reservoir like an ancient ocean—all of it disappeared, the pressure and pain, the mania and fever-bright delirium.
And Scorio found himself standing on a gray slate platform from whose edges arose four free-standing portals, the void beyond starless and infinite.
Three of the doors were sealed shut, but the fourth stood open, and Scorio knew that his first trial awaited him beyond it.
Chapter 66
Feverish, trembling with anticipation, Scorio approached the open portal. He couldn’t see beyond it; like those within the Gauntlet, the space bounded by its arch was opaque, a rippling field of white light.
Frowning, resisting the impulse to plunge straight through and seize his power, Scorio drew back and scrutinized the other three doors. Each was made of a different material; at first glance, they seemed to be bronze, silver, and gold. Turning back to the open one before him, he saw that its border was of smooth silver as well, but upon closer scrutiny realized it was iron.
Iron, bronze, silver, and gold. Emberling, Tomb Spark, Flame Vault, and Dread Blaze. He’d be coming back to this place for each evolution, it seemed. For a moment he wondered if one could force their way through a higher-ranked door, effect a shortcut that would allow him access to far greater powers than was his current remit, but then discarded the idea. Surely a place so steeped in power as this would be immune to such improvident strategies.
A deep breath. Scorio shook out his arms and turned back to the iron arch. Time to seize his heritage. Could one fail a trial? Funny, he’d never thought to ask. But had also never heard of a Cinder remaining as such after reaching this point. Perhaps failure wasn’t an option. Then in what way was this a trial?